DISCONTINUED
𝐌𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞♥
❝𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐚, 𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐬❞
❞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭❝
Wren Kai Kreese moved from Chicago to California when he was 12 and has lived there ever since. He's manage...
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𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬:
incorrect karate sparring (i did research but it's still definitely unrealistic, be patient w me pls), awkward morning afters LMAO
𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭?
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐍𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞.
He groans as he comes to, the sound ricochets off of the walls and back into his own ears. The steady pounding in his head reminds him of horses, the pattern of their hoofs beating against the terrain. He's warm, which is an unusual feeling to wake up to, unlike his alcohol-induced headache.
Fingers trail up and down his side slowly, as if savoring the scarred skin.
"Morning" Wren cracks his eyes open at the sound of another voice, sort of confused. He looks around at the unfamiliar room and down to the kind of familiar yet absolutely gorgeous boy on top of him.
"Hello." Corbyn cracks a grin at him, his locs falling in front of his face. Wren studies the position he's found himself in, dragging his eyes across his companions shirtless form, to his arm currently thrown over Wren's stomach. Instead of replying, the taller drags a digit across a yellow bruise, the only one that still showing. He looks up at Wren, a silent question.
"Karate." Wren lies.
"Ah, that's why your friends are so weird." His eyebrows furrow at the mention of his dojo friends, racking his brain for what he's forgetting. He thinks it's something important, having to do with karate at least, but he can't remember.
"Hey, that's mean. Didn't Aisha invite you anyways?"
"Honestly, I have no idea who Aisha is. I was just passing through and saw the party. I went in to get some alcohol and left with a pretty boy." Wren smiles lightly, before subconsciously bringing a hand up to his right eye. Corbyn pulls it down and leans up to press his lips against the scar. "What happened?"
"Oh, just a cooking incident. Nothing that important"
"Put the knife down, pl-"
Wren mentally slaps himself. The memories have been coming back slowly, reminding him of the worst part of his life. Ever since his mom's condition has worsened. He picks his phone up from where it was haphazardly tossed on the floor. That's when he notices that the mattress they're laying on doesn't have a frame.
